Into the Here and Now
by FourSilverArrows
Summary: Companion to In This Moment. How's Roy doing at the hospital as he waits for Johnny?


Into the Here and Now

Suggested by: Leslie Passman  
Comments: A companion piece to In This Moment. Thanks to Janet for her proofing and suggestions.

* * *

The building was not up to code. Mel Thatcher, owner of the downtrodden building, was warned by the men of Station 51 several times to fix his sprinklers, his shoddy door latches and update the electrical wiring. But he chose to ignore the warnings and when the fire broke in the overused laundry room from faulty wiring, the doors wouldn't open, trapping the people in the basement to die of fire and smoke inhalation. The sprinklers never came on. No alarm was raised.

Of course, Mel Thatcher did not live in this building. He had a plush house on Peach Street. He didn't even come down to the burning site when he was called and told his building was burning to the ground and that people were dying. He didn't even see the carnage that his neglect caused.

So, with no warning for the others that inhabited the building, the fire had a field day with the old structure and the people who called it home. The old elevator shafts acted as chimneys and threw the fuel of oxygen on the fire. Dry wood paneling was kindling for the beast. Cheap furniture and polyester curtains put out toxic fumes as the fire consumed them as well.

Roy tried to turn his thoughts away from the fire, rubbing his eyes in frustration and fatigue. He came in with his last victim from the apartment building about ten minutes ago.

Without the help from Squads 16, 19, 11 and 8, he didn't think they would have saved as many as they did. But even that number was less than half and some of the victims would not make it out of the hospital alive.

God, Roy hoped this victim lived. Two others that arrived at the hospital in this condition. Burned so severely, that skin and muscle were destroyed right down to the bone. The other two had died in his care while on the table being examined by a doctor.

And the children, he gasped and almost lost it and then strongly reigned himself back in. To hear their pitiful cries as the pain hit them from their burns tied Roy's stomach into knots. Their eyes glazed as they searched for their parents in the chaos.

For each girl the firefighters pulled out, Roy thought of his daughter and for each boy, his son. And for every woman, he thought of his wife. As he helped pull the bodies from the smoldering rubble, he hoped and prayed his family was safe at home. It took every bit of discipline he had not to run to the nearest phone and call his wife. Just to hear her voice and know she was all right. To hear the children playing in the background and know that they were safe from the raging fire that he fought on this night.

Now that the fire was out, Roy wanted to call his family, but realized it was late and a school night. He didn't want to wake the children with a ringing phone. And a ringing phone in the middle of the night would really scare his wife to death. Ringing phones at night usually meant bad news. The kind of news that said your husband has been in an accident and you need to come to the hospital right away. Roy didn't want to put her through that momentary flash of fear.

He was sitting in the ER waiting room. Near his seat were some of the families of those victims that Roy was blessed, or cursed, to find in the burning blaze. He could hear their soft weeping and see the anguish on their faces when the doctors told them how severely their loved ones were burned. How they may never have normal lives again. How some would never live again.

He watched as the other Squad members milled around near the main desk, also curious as to the fate of the victims they brought in. He didn't get up or speak to them. He didn't think he could without breaking down.

Was this to be his fate? Would his wife be told one day that her husband would live only half a life, burned in some fire that was finally too much for him? Or worse, leave his family without a husband and father?

And Johnny? How would he deal with it if Johnny was ever killed or maimed by one of these huge five alarms? Johnny was like a little brother to him.

Roy sat up a little taller as the doctor came in the waiting room from where Roy took the little girl, his last victim of the night. The doctor whispered to the family for a moment and then quietly left the family to grieve their loss.

It hit Roy in the heart like a spike.

He rarely broke down. Roy was a trained paramedic. Trained to detach himself from his victim so he could give his optimum care. Only give a little comfort and reassurance to the patient, but never become involved or it would tear out your heart. And yet, a tear rolled out of his left eye and he quickly smeared it away and into the soot on his face.

God, Johnny, where the hell are you? I can't stay here anymore and see these people mourn this little girl. That beautiful little girl that should have so much to live for. Why aren't you here to pick me up from this den of anguish?

He got up from his chair and went to hide in the lounge until Johnny and the Squad arrived.

Roy suddenly felt guilty at railing against his partner. He remembered the look of devastation on his partner's face while pulling out victims.

If he was breaking down, then Johnny's heart must be broken into a hundred pieces, as well.

Johnny didn't know the meaning of the word 'detached' when it came to a victim. He lived and breathed that victim until they were safely here at the hospital. And even then, he checked on their condition whenever he could to see how they were doing. Every death was like a physical blow to the younger paramedic.

Roy turned to the window. Where was Johnny? He needed him right now. Maybe Johnny could come up with some of his usual banter and lighten up his mood. Make this horrible want to cry to go away.

And abruptly, Johnny was there.

Roy turned at the sound of the door and saw Johnny. His coat was a mass of black and his helmet was an ashy-gray. His face streaked with soot and tears.

The exact duplicate of Roy's appearance since both had been too preoccupied with the victims of the horrible night to notice.

Johnny was always the more emotional of the two. He was the one who wore his heart on his sleeve whereas Roy kept most things inside. It was natural the first thing Johnny did when he saw Roy whole and healthy was to step forward and grab Roy's right arm in a tight, desperate grip.

"Are you all right?" asked Johnny in a smoke roughened voice. He let go of his grip as he asked his question of Roy.

Roy nodded. "You?"

Johnny let him go and then shrugged his shoulders. "I'm fine, just a little tired." They sat on the sofa and for once, made no move toward the coffeepot. "Cap had to jump start me to get me over here to pick you up. It was just . . . awful over there. All those bodies." He shivered in his sooty coat and turned haunted brown eyes up to Roy's blue ones. "But he told me that we helped a lot of people. That we shouldn't second guess what we did out there or how things turn out. He wanted you to know that, too."

Roy nodded again. "I know," he whispered out, the tears threatening again.

"You call your wife yet?"

Roy shook his head. "It's a school night. Didn't want to wake the kids."

Johnny took him by the arm and pulled him up from the sofa and to the phone in the lounge. "You need to call her, Roy, and talk to the kids. You need to get out of that burning building and come into the here and now. She'll help you do that."

Roy looked at Johnny for a long moment and then held out a hand, which Johnny took. "No, partner. I think you just helped me do that."

END


End file.
